


Ô printemps

by Meme_Cracra



Series: Après la pluie [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Pining, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meme_Cracra/pseuds/Meme_Cracra
Summary: Though Geralt couldn't yet tell what sort of creature Jaskier was, one thing was for sure. He was harmless. Worse even, he was defenseless. Most of the time he seemed to need protecting even from himself. It was only professional curiosity that stopped Geralt from punching the bard the moment he played the first note of what was to become his new hit, and leave him behind on the dirt road. Or so Geralt told himself.Or Geralt knows Jaskier is not human and is trying to find out what he is exactly all by himself because he is a witcher dammit, he's supposed to know this things.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Après la pluie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927360
Comments: 91
Kudos: 726





	1. La bohême

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there !  
> So today is a day of first : first time posting a fic here, first time posting a fic in english (I'm French, bonjour) and first time writing for this fandom :D  
> This small idea grew too insistent to ignore so here it is. As for the ressources I used, most are from the TV show and the game Witcher 3.  
> Hope you'll like it, feel free to let me know if anything sounds a bit weird - what with me not being a native english speaker and all.  
> Bonne lecture ! :D

1240 

Geralt wasn't stupid. He might be a bit oblivious when it came to things such as understanding human emotions sometimes, true, but still. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the moment the bard came to his table in that shitty tavern in Posada that the man was no regular human. 

First of all, his medaillon warmed slightly against his skin, warning him immediately of the magical being approaching. As it did not vibrate and only remained slightly balmy, Geralt barely lifted his gaze from the pissy ale in his tank to assess the potential threat. 

The boy, for he was certainly not much older than that, was swiftly crossing the room, snatching a drink from a tray on his way to Geralt’s table. Without any obvious anxiety, other than a slightly elevated heartbeat that only the witcher could hear, the young bard seated himself in front of Geralt and asked for some musical feedback. Bold. 

Through sheer stubbornness and annoyance - and certainly not because Geralt was curious despite himself to see someone actively trying to spend time with him - the boy followed him out and up the trail to his next contract. The bard had introduced himself as Jaskier, an obviously fake name which only proved further Geralt's suspicion. Since Jaskier had yet to make any threatening move, he let him be for the moment.

They walked on up the mountain in search of the devil the villagers had paid him to kill, then were somehow imprisoned and beat down by elfs, who eventually let them go after what seemed to be an enlightening history lesson for the bard. An altogether strange but still not so surprising afternoon during which Jaskier had displayed a total lack of any ability for violence. Even when facing imminent death, he did not use any of the magic Geralt could feel strumming beneath his skin, did not fight back or try to take revenge on Filavandrel when cut loose. Still, Geralt got no further clue on what Jaskier might be which, as a well educated witcher, he found strange and a bit exciting.

And so, it was only professional curiosity that stopped Geralt from punching the bard the moment he played the first note of what was to become his new hit, and leave him behind on the dirt road. Or so Geralt told himself. 

* * *

'Come on Geralt, you'll see you'll not regret it ! Trust me, it'll be amazing. Food like you've never tasted I swear, the best in all Temeria'

Geralt could have told Jaskier that he knew all the villages in Temeria, that he'd been in each one dozens of times since he started hunting beasts as a Witcher. He could have said that he'd already tried the food Jaskier was so fervently advertising, that he knew how deliciously spicy the meaty buns were when bitten into. That it was even some of his favorites food. Instead he went for his usual 'Hmm', turned Roach east toward Dorian and went on. 

'Oh great, you'll not regret it I promise. You'll be blown away, even you will have to shed a tear when tasting such delicacies' Jaskier continued, walking next to Roach, waving his arms enthusiastically. Geralt's mare had never been a very patient horse and, seeing the bard gesticulating so close to her, she took a step sideways and pulled on the reins.

'Stop moving so much or you'll find yourself a few fingers short bard' Geralt warned calmly.

'Oh, she wouldn't dare, this lady knows not to harm the hands of an artist such as I am'. Still, he immediatly snactched his hands back and kept them close for a grand total of three minutes -not that Geralt counted- before launching into a new monologue Geralt sometimes punctuated with a low growl, as had become their habit.

In the now four months since they started traveling together, Geralt had not learned much more about what Jaskier might be. He didn't seem to be actively hiding anything, Geralt believed himself astute enough to notice had it been the case. There was simply no obvious display of magic, no shapeshifting or peculiar abilities that could have pointed Geralt in the right direction. That is not to say he did not learn more about who the bard was.

The most obvious thing was that Jaskier could not, for the life of him, be silent. He was always either babbling away on one topic or another, full on singing or just humming gently. It had taken some time for Geralt to adjust, used as he was to pay careful attention to the sounds around him. It grated on his nerves at first, put him on edge for days, so much so that he almost left the bard at the first inn they stopped at on the way. But as he got used to it, he started to tune it out and it faded to the background. Jaskier did not seem to expect him to be an active participant in those discussions, which suited Geralt just fine. 

The bard liked performing at inns just as much as he enjoyed spending the night under the stars, and wasn't that a surprise. Despite what his fancy clothing and general attitude might suggest, Jaskier could pull his weight around the camp, gathering dry wood and building a fire efficiently, preparing the game Geralt had hunted without fuss. He offered to take care of Roach at first but was soon dissuaded when the mare tried to bite him. 

He still complained of course, be it about his sore feet, the cold or the fact that 'it's the third day in a row we are eating rabbit Geralt, one cannot thrive on rabbit only'. Jaskier was quick witted and, Geralt was loath to admit, surprisingly funny. The witcher had caught himself smiling more often than he'd like to admit the past months, something that only really ever happened when he wintered in Kaer Morhen with his brothers. 

The bard was also way to fucking curious for his own good. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Geralt, about the monsters he was fighting, about witchers in general. He was relentless in his questions, constantly pushing for more details and most of the time got either ignored or yelled at depending on Geralt's mood. Jaskier was always looking for more materials for his songs, advertising Geralt’s heroism - his words, not the witcher’s - at every turn and as often as he could. 

Traveling with a human -or at least someone that could pass as a human- even more so a bard still made life easier for Geralt when crossing paths with other people. Jaskier took on most of the talking and, more often than not, got them to be if not outright nice, at least civil during their exchange. 

Jaskier had some weird quirks of course, and if Geralt had hoped at first that it could give him some more clues, he was rapidly disappointed. Jaskier was very particular about his appearance. He would moan endlessly if even slightly dirtied but the road, begging Geralt for them to stop at any river or pond they saw so he could at least splash his face clean with some fresh water. He brushed his wavy brown hair every morning and took care to drop some scented oil on his wrists regularly. That explained why he always smelled of wildflowers at least. Geralt had not expected the broad shoulders hidden under layers of fine silk, nor the strong tights he got a glimpse of during some of those baths in the cool rivers. Jaskier was fit for a life of wandering and took to following the witcher's lifestyle surprisingly quickly. 

Also, in just the first six weeks of their travel together, the man had bedded seven persons- that Geralt knew of- men and women, and been chased down by three angry parents slash spouses. Jaskier took it all in stride, laughing it off and usually telling the witcher in a dramatic mock whisper that 'beauty in all its forms needs to be appreciated Geralt'.

He'd also been attacked by drowners when refueling the waterskins -twice-, been involved in a bar fight not ten minutes after entering the place and angered too many people to count on the way. The man was a literal trouble magnet, a walking disaster waiting to happen. 

Geralt wasn't even surprised anymore when Jaskier came running to him, followed by furious screaming. Most of the time he barely had to glare at them before they went back the way they came, quietly cursing the bard under their breath.

Jaskier was still talking when Geralt suddenly came out of his musings. The light wind carried the smell of a small group of humans, a little way ahead of them. Nothing alarming if it weren't for the whiff of weapon grease the witcher could detect under the sweaty human scent.

'And there is this tavern I love, I'm sure the owner will let me play for our supper and a room, it will be a nice change from the nights out right ? It's getting a bit too cold to my taste these nights you know. I have to buy a thicker bedroll, maybe there will be some in the market' the bard continued, oblivious to the potential threat. 

Geralt straightened up in his saddle, alert. It was early autumn now, the weather was indeed getting colder but the forest and bushes bordering the road were still thick with leaves, the wild grass fields high enough to provide plenty of hiding spots for ill intentioned men. He looked left and right, listening for any breaking twigs or crushed dead leaves.

'I could use some new doublet too don't you think ? I mean I love this one but I think it's too summery, you know what I mean ? Autumn calls for something a little warmer in hue, something lie de vin maybe.' Jaskier kept on talking still, not paying attention to the tension steadily growing next to him.

Geralt whispered hurriedly 'Jaskier, shut up'

'Geralt, just because you have some incomprehensible aversion to anything other than black and broody doesn't mean I should do the same. I mean black is most certainly not my color, I can tell you that' he argued, turning his gaze on Geralt, indignant.

Before Geralt could tell him once more to just shut the fuck up so he could focus on the bandits approaching, an arrow shot right past Jaskier’s cheek, grazing it as it went on to stuck itself in the ground. He jumped and stared stupidly at the projectile embedded at his feet, raised a hand to his face before looking at it, stained with blood. He turned back to Geralt, eyes wide and panicked. 

'Oh shit, oh fuck Geralt my face ! My pretty, pretty face is damaged beyond all hope, what are we gonna do ?' he screamed, slapping a hand on his cheek to try and stop the bleeding.

'Move, take Roach and get to cover. Don't come out till I tell you' The witcher answered, dismounting and handing Jaskier the reins just before unsheathing his steel sword. No need for silver here. Jaskier complied and ran to the wood, pulling a reluctant Roach with him. Helped by the shooting angle of the arrow, Geralt had pinpointed the bowman, somewhere behind a tree, some ways to his left. He heard a muffled gasp half that distance on his right. Another one. And there, two more on the left, closer still. With both Jaskier and Roach out of the way, he could now focus . He took a deep breath, held his sword low and braced himself.

‘Leave now and we won't come after you' he warned them loudly. Since they may now have realised what they were against, maybe they'd take this chance and run if they were smart. 

'Like shit we'll run' coming out of hiding, the three swordsmen walked slowly towards him, weapons at the ready. Their stances spoke of basic training for one, probably the leader given his age and the better state of his equipment, but the other two, younger, did not even grasp their hilts correctly. 'Give us your money and all your stuff, and maybe we'll let you live' the leader said, pointing at Geralt with his sword, cocky. Not so smart then.

A whistling noise warned Geralt of another incoming arrow. He dodged, dashing forward and started running towards the men. One of the boys immediately dropped his sword and turned around, fleeing and abandoning his group. Good. Another arrow came his way, he swatted it away with a quick aard, knocking a bandit from his feet in the blast. Geralt was now only facing the oldest man. He raised his sword and brought it down swiftly. The bandit tried to raise his own weapon but barely got it high enough to counter, dropping the sword on impact with a cry. Geralt brought down his hilt on the man's head, knocking him down. 

The second man tried to get to his feet but froze when Geralt turned to him ‘Stay down’ he growled. He looked to the tree the bowman was hiding behind, waiting for him to shoot another arrow to knock him out with aard too. 

He heard a small cry coming from there, followed by a loud thump, only to then see Jaskier jumping back to the road, a bloody rock in hand. ‘All is well on this front Geralt !’ Jaskier exclaimed, smiling widely despite his still bloody cheek, slowly dripping down his chin on his blue silky doublet. 

Geralt mumbled, ‘I told you to stay hidden, bard.’ Turning to the only bandit still conscious he said ‘Don’t try anything stupid. Take care of your friends and don’t follow us understand ?’ The boy promptly nodded and ran to his leader, dropping on his knees next to him. Geralt took their weapons, planning on selling them to the blacksmith in Dorian. No sense wasting an occasion to make some coin. 

Jaskier had gone back and retrieved Roach from where he’d left her, still smiling.

‘We make a good team, don’t we Geralt ?’

Geralt sighed and softly grabbed Jaskier's chin, turning it so he could examine the wound. It appeared to be shallow enough, had only touched the bard cheekbone and wouldn't even leave a mark if taken care of appropriately. He told Jaskier so as he grabbed a clean rag and the healing salve stored in Roach’s saddlebag. He carefully wiped the blood away from the cut before lathering it generously with the salve. It’s only when he took a step back to check his work that he realised that it was the first time he’d touch the bard face and how close he’d been to him. Jaskier, dazed after holding his breath during the treatment, released it slowly, a bit shaky. 

‘Thank you Geralt.’ He grabbed Geralt’s hand and squeezed it, smiling shily. He only let it go when he turned back to face the road, seemingly shaking himself back to reality. ‘Well, adventure has a way to whet one’s appetite. I can’t wait to get to Dorian !’ 

Geralt looked at him go for a second before following, Roach in tow. The warmth blooming in his belly had nothing to do with the sweetness of his travel companion, he thought. He was hungry too, that's all. And though Geralt couldn't yet tell what sort of creature Jaskier was, one thing was for sure. He was harmless. Worse even, he was defenseless. Most of the time he seemed to need protecting even from himself, attracting more trouble than was conceivable. Jaskier was no threat to Geralt, that he was certain of. And it couldn't hurt to let the bard follow him on the Path some more, if only to make sure he did not start singing some new atrocities.


	2. Le tourbillon de la vie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was not expecting that many people to read this little story of mine, I'm thrilled yall liked it ! This chapter is on the smaller side but I already have chapters 3 and 4 ready, they'll be up during the week probably. Enjoy :D

1242

Witchering wasn’t only about smashing monsters skulls and hunting down beasts twice his size. Alchemy was one of the other aspects of his life, just like research was. That’s the reason why, after inventorying his collection of vials and finding it lacking, Geralt was now crouching on the mossy forest floor, looking for some rare green mold. He’d already found the mushrooms he needed, now only missing the mold and some Nazairi basil. He did not have much hope of finding any, rare as it was, but he’d look for it still. He’d have liked to find some winter cherries also, but since they were now in full spring, he’d resigned himself to buying some in powder to the next herborist he’d meet. 

All the while, Jaskier was laying in the meadow a few feet away, surrounded by bright buttercups and dandelions, gently swaying in the sweet smelling breeze. Birds were chirping gayly in the trees above, bees zooming from one flower to another. Geralt stopped his search for a second and turned to face him. 

Next to the flowers crowning his head, his hair shone golden in the afternoon sun. His cheeks, glowing a healthy pink, were covered in tiny freckles that went all the way down to his collarbones, currently exposed as Jaskier had loosened the laces of his shirt to enjoy the weather. They’d known each other a couple years, having only met back up after Geralt’s winter in Kaer Morhen and still the witcher did not know what Jaskier was. Geralt could have asked, at this point he was fairly sure Jaskier would never harm him intentionally -and wasn't that a thought- and trusted the witcher enough to share. But, as months flew by, it had become a sort of challenge to Geralt. He wanted to find the answer by himself dammit and he would. He'd try to do some research during last winter but he found nothing on what Jaskier might be. He’d have to be more observant. 

The bard looked at peace there, smiling and breathing softly, soaking up the soft spring one breath at a time. He was also totally not helping Geralt. 

'Jaskier'

'Hmm ?' was all the answer he got from the bard, who kept his eyes closed and barely turned his head toward Geralt. 

The witcher sighed and asked 'Remember what we came in this forest for ?'

'Hmm was it not to enjoy this delightfully sunny day ?' he dared to answer, the cheeky thing. Still, Jaskier rolled on his side, took one last deep breath in the flowers and sat up. He raised his hands high and stretched languorously, his shirt itching up and displaying a small band of his lower belly -Geralt of course did not look at it, neither did he wonder at the softness of the exposed skin- and breathed out heavily. He faced Geralt and finally opened his cornflower blue eyes, already pouting.

'Alright, alright I know. We came here to replenish your very important stock of very important plants. You've been at it for hours now, you must have found them all by now.'

'Maybe if you'd helped me instead of taking a nap I'd be done yes.' Geralt was too frustrated with his unsuccessful hunt right now to sound anything but annoyed.

‘No need to get all grumpy on me Geralt’ Jaskier walked on all four toward the witcher. He sat back down on his heels next to Geralt and smiled at him. ‘You know your gruffy voice does not intimidate me in the least, never has. So, tell me dear, what is it you’re still missing ?’

Ignoring the moniker and the way it made his heart speed up, Geralt answered perfectly stoically, not at all petulantly ‘Green mold, Nazairi basil and winter cherries.’

Standing up and dusting off his trousers, Jaskier laughed ‘Well that shouldn’t be too hard now ! You should have a shuteye, I’ll be back in a blink.’

Stunned by this unexpected and enthusiastic answer, Geralt could only dumbly look at Jaskier’s retreating back as he strode through the meadow's high grasses. He was a bit skeptical of Jaskier’s abilities to distinguish between two plants, had no hope of him finding the rare herbs he needed, but the bard was right about one thing, Geralt had earned a break. He closed his eyes and laid back on his hands, head towards the blue sky. 

‘Here you go !’

Geralt barely contained his flinch. Jaskier was standing in front of him, offering up what the witcher could only call a full bouquet of basil and winter cherries. ‘What’

‘Here the mold, sorry there is just no way to put mold in a bouquet and expect it to be pretty’ He handed Geralt a pouch full to bursting with green mold while also pushing the bouquet in his hands. 

'How did you…' 

Geralt, bewildered, did not even finish his sentence before Jaskier said 'well it really wasn't so hard, you just had to look over there, there's huge cluster of them.'

'Jaskier, those only grow in late autumn and winter.' Geralt countered, frowning.

'I guess I'm just lucky then.' was all Jaskier had to say to that. 'Let's stay here a while longer, it is too nice a day to spend it on the road. Have a lay down in the grass and just relax for a moment.'

And so they did. 

* * *

1243

A year later, in the full heat of summer, Geralt was on his way to kill a nest of nekkers near Novigrad when he heard a familiar voice singing. Without any conscious decision on his part, his feet changed course, zeroing on the song. A few minutes later, he found himself on the river shore, libellule flying around the lily pads and toad loudly making themselves known. Rarely before has Geralt seen such a luscious display of greenery, wisterias hanging above the water sweetly embalming the scene.There, sitting on a bolder, feet submerged, was Jaskier. He was slowly plucking his lute and humming a joyful tune, gazing into the water flowing below. 

He had not changed much since they last met some months ago. Still dressed extravagantly, still oblivious to his surroundings and still stupidly handsome. His hair though, strangely, seemed a bit duller and his cheeks had lost their healthy pink shade. He also seemed to have lost some weight. Maybe the bard had known a few difficult weeks, angering the wrong person and being chased out of a city too fast for him to secure some coins -something that had happened far too often in the past.

Well that wouldn't do. Geralt let his pack down, grabbed the meat, cheese and fruit he had prepared for the hunt and went to sit next to Jaskier.

* * *

1249

They did not usually meet this late in autumn, Geralt being on his way North to Kaer Morhen and Jaskier leaving to whoever would have him for the winter months.

This year had been fucking weird that was for sure, so it was not so surprising that all their usual routines went to hell. After the debacle in Cintra, Geralt had left as fast as Roach could take him, leaving Jaskier and the clusterfuck that was destiny behind.

He'd spent the next few weeks going from contracts to contracts, never leaving himself a moment to breathe -to think- running himself ragged. He had taken all his rage and frustration on not so innocent monsters and felt better for it. 

That was a few months ago now. Meeting Jaskier one last time before climbing up to the keep was nice though. Geralt had noticed his scent the moment he approached the tavern. There was no singing to be heard, it was not performance time yet then. Pushing the door, he scanned the room and immediately caught the deep red color of the doublet the bard had chosen that day. Signaling the barkeeper for an ale and some food, Geralt strolled to the corner table Jaskier was currently at. 

'Jaskier' he greeted the bard, sitting next to him.

The man startled, spilling some of his beer and bringing a hand to his heart, dramatic as ever. 'Dear gods Geralt, someone should put a bell on you.' He breathed out and put his hand on Geralt's arm. 'Not to say that I am not happy to see you my friend, I did miss you terribly.'

The witcher starred. The bard looked like shit. From this close, Geralt could see the deep bruises under his eyes in the unhealthy paleness of his sunken face, only exacerbated by his dark hair, almost black in the gloom of the tavern. The hand on his arm felt weak and shaky, lackingits usual sureness. Jaskier seemed sick, somewhat less than he normally was. 

He must have noticed Geralt's unusual scrutiny for he stood taller, only highlighting how slumped he'd been.

'I'm fine Geralt, nothing a few good nights of sleep in a nice bed and regular meals won't fix.'

'What happened ?' he still asked, for certainly something must have. He put one of his hands on the one Jaskier had left on his forearm. It was cold as ice. 

'Nothing I swear, I'm just not a winter person. It's the same every year, the moment winter nears I get a cold, then another, and then another till I have no choice but to find some place to hide from the weather till spring comes around. My cycle of life !' he exclaimed, waving it off and chuckling weakly.

'Hmm'

'Still, I’m touched to see you so worried my friend. You just caught me on a bad day. I was heading to Oxenfurt, where I've been invited to give classes I'll have you know, when the dizziness got to me. I'll just stay here a few days, sleep, eat and be on my way. What about you ?'

The barkeep placed a tankard and a full plate of roasted potatoes and some ducks soaked in heavy sauce. 'I'll have another,' Geralt said, sliding enough coins to cover all his orders.

'Comin' right away sir witcher.'

'My my, someone's hungry'

'Hmm' Geralt pushed the plate closer to Jaskier, used to him taking a bite now and then. 'I'm on my way to Kaer Morhen to winter there with my brothers. I'm taking contracts on the way and got delayed by a gryffin.'

'Oh my, those are usually trouble indeed. Did you get hurt ?' Jaskier asked, frowning as he pilfered a potato and stuffed his face.

'It was an old one, would have starved during the winter. It was more mercy killing than a real hunt.'

Jaskier smiled, eyes soft and warm. 'You've always been the sweetest Geralt.'

Embarrassed, Geralt focused on his plate and said nothing. 

'Will you be staying here long ?'

Geralt jumped on the chance to change the subject, grateful. 'I'll check the board tomorrow morning, see if there's anything to do around here before leaving.'

'Amazing ! Should we share a room while you're here ? Just like old times ?'

'Hmm' Jaskier took this as the agreement it was and beamed. The second plate came and once again, Geralt pushed it to Jaskier.

Geralt would indeed check the board, but contract or not, he'd probably stay some more. Roach deserved the rest after all.


	3. Jardin d'hiver

1250 to 1253

They’d arrived in the village just the day before. They’d seen a notice three towns over about a ghoul infestation caused by a recent bandits battle and made their way here. The sunny spring weather had taken a turn for the worse and they were caught in heavy showers on the way there. Half drowned and cold, they spent the day in the small tavern where they shared a hot bath and spent the evening in front of the fire. Jaskier had refused to sing that night, scared he might have caught a cold and sipping his heavily honeyed tea.The kids that had been expectantly staring at him the moment they noticed his lute ooed in disappointment and so he’d promised he’d play the following day, when Geralt would be gone hunting since ‘My friend has once more forbidden from accompanying him - don’t glare Geralt that’s what you did- so I’ll be free all day. What should we say, meet up in the marketplace ?’

That had been enough to send his miniature fans running to their parents asking for permission. And so Geralt was not surprised to hear Jaskier sing the following day, while he made his way back from the successful hunt. He made his way to the dirt packed town square, following the bard's voice.

The first thing Geralt saw was the flock of children sitting in a half circle and occasionally trying to clap to the tune, more or less successfully. Their parents were either perusing the few market stalls installed for the day or listening to the impromptu performance. 

A joyful chirp brought Geralt's gaze to the bard. Leaning on the well, lute in hands, Jaskier was singing his heart out, obviously relishing in his loving audience. And there, perched on his shoulder, on the handle of his instrument, at his feet, were birds. Just as his eyes widened and he felt himself gape, Geralt saw a small robin land on Jaskier’ head, cheerfully trilling away on the golden curls of the bard's hair. Beaming, Jaskier played on, seemingly unfazed by the unexpected choral joining on his show. 

Right then, Jaskier noticed Geralt and his smile widened, blinding in its warmth, and the birds singing appeared to take on an even brighter tune for it. The witcher could not stop himself from smiling back and stayed there to enjoy the decidedly wondrous show. 

* * *

‘I’ll find some murshroom and prepare a delicious stew I’m sure’

Today was not Geralt’s day. Cross that, this all week had been shitty from the start. First they’d been stoned out of a village after Geralt had come to claim the reward from a hunt. Geralt was not exactly surprised, this shit had occurred often enough to become routine by now, but still, it had not happened for some time now, probably in part thanks to Jaskier’s song. But they’d been in Redenia, not too far from Blaviken and things were just shitty like that sometimes. Right after collecting payment they’d been spat on, cursed and chased out of the city. This was enough to put a damper on Geralt’s mood, but the bruise on Jaskier’s brow enraged him everytime he caught sight of it. The bard had been so shocked by the turn of events that he’d not even try to dodge the stone a kid no older than ten had thrown at him. 

Then it had rained non stop for two days, forcing them to travel in wet clothes in the cold autumn air for hours before they managed to find a tavern and rent a room to wait it out. Only for Geralt to then take on a contract to kill a fucking leshen, leshen that the witcher managed to track down and kill but not before it had stabbed him in the thigh. Jaskier had insisted on tending to the wound right the moment Geralt felled the forest spirit, cleaning and bandaging it meticulously. 

So here they were, deep in the damp forest, Geralt still unable to stand despite Jaskier’s careful care, most of their supplies in their packs back at the inn. They had little choice but to spend the night right where they were to give some time for his leg to heal. Jaskier had already built a fire to keep the cold at bay and they would huddle for the night - always a tantalizing prospect for Geralt, even in the most dire circumstances. They would manage for the night, they’d had to before and survived it , but they were hungry and there was game nearby.

And yet, Jaskier persisted in wanting to go wandering the woods for mushrooms only. Geralt had no strong feeling against mushrooms, he quite liked it in fact, but there was no reason for them to limit their dinner to a few mouthfuls of greens when they could add a few rabbits to the mix. 

‘Jaskier, stop being difficult, take the dagger and go get us some meat to eat.’ Geralt pushed the small weapon in the bard’s hand, glaring.

‘Oh really, I’m the one being difficult now. I’m not the one throwing a tantrum over his dinner, am I ?’ Jaskier squawked, refusing the dagger and putting his hands on his hips. ‘I am the one preparing it, so I get to choose the menu my dear, as simple as that’ He huffed, standing up. 

‘It’s near dark, there’s just not enough time for you to take a stroll in the woods. It’ll be much faster for you to hunt.’

Jaskier threw his hands up. ‘Oh really. What do you expect, that I’ll just come across a good fat hare, just waiting for me to butcher it if I ask nicely ?’ 

Just as he finished his sentence, a white hare, plump as anything, hopped right to Jaskier’s feet. They both stared at it dumbly as it nibbled on some cloves, not anxious in the slightest at being near them. 

‘Ha, ha well, hum, would you look at that,’ Jaskier chuckled nervously, stepping away from the animal as if it was the most fearsome beast he’d ever seen, while Geralt stared at it, frowning. ‘What a cute little bunny, who would have thought there were some so close. Well, hum, I’ll go look for those mushrooms now,’ he continued, grabbing a bag and slowly walking backwards out of their improvised camp. ‘Maybe I’ll get to see some more wildlife on the way, maybe a deer or two or something. Ow !’

A small fawn had crossed the treeline and bumped into Jaskier, startling him. It was soon followed by a whole herd that started grazing calmly around the campfire. One came next to Geralt and nipped at his shirt. Geralt glared.

‘It’s getting ridiculous Jas.’

‘What do you want me to do, I can’t help it Geralt !’ Jaskier moaned, scratching a deer behind the ear absentmindedly and looking around, clearly overwhelmed. 

They’d been dancing around the subject of Jaskier’s nature for some time now. Geralt had made a game of mentioning as many creatures' names as he could in their conversation, attentively watching for the bard’s reactions. Everytime, Jaskier would smirk, acknowledging the attempt but never confirming anything. 

Today was the first time they both openly broached the subject, however vaguely. Geralt had already noticed Jaskier’s connection to animals of course but this display was just absurd. The witcher looked at the doe that had settled next to him and laid her head on his lap. He sighted.

‘I guess it does feel a bit unfair to hunt this way’ he conceded softly.

Jaskier fidgeted a second before nodding with a small guilty smile. ‘I’ll not be a minute.’ He turned and went deeper into the forest. The mushroom stew was indeed delicious, copious enough for two and they were not cold that night, surrounded by the deers that stayed with them till morning.

* * *

Given all this, it was not so surprising in the end that one of the things that frustrated Jaskier the most while on the road with Geralt, was Roach. The bard was in denial at first, trying again and again to slip her sugar cube and apples he pulled out of thin air. Roach accepted the offerings but remained hostile nonetheless. 

‘Why doesn't she like me ?’ He lamented that night, after one too many ale. He took another swallow, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned a puppy eyes look on Geralt. ‘I don’t understand, I’ve tried everything, grooming, feeding her, I even cleaned her tack and still she hates me !’

Geralt, deep in his ale himself, snickered behind his tankard. ‘She’s just that smart.’

‘Oh you heartless witcher, kick a man while he’s down why don’t you.’ Jaskier shoved him - only because Geralt let him - and let out a heartfelt sight. ‘It’s just incomprehensible, animals usually love me on sight ! And here I am, trying my hardest to seduce her to no avail.’ He slumped on the table with a groan.

‘There, there’ Geralt patted his head softly, casually running his hand through his hair. ‘She’s a witcher’s horse Jas. She’s been specifically chosen and trained to only respond to me and be suspicious of anyone else, it’s bound to have some consequences.’ He’d already explained this to Jaskier of course, but the man persisted, refusing to accept this as an answer. 

‘Well t’s just not fair and I won’t stand for it.’ He slurred, solemn determination clear in the set of his shoulders. ‘She will love me, I swear it’

‘You already have every animal swooning, I don’t see what good one more would do.’

Indignant, Jaskier blurted ‘But it’s not just any animal Geralt, it’s Roach ! I want her to like me, she’s important to you !’ 

Geralt froze, his tankard halfway up to his mouth. He was pretty sure witchers could not blush and yet, he felt his face heat up. Jaskier was looking at him from across the table, gaping and face flushed red.

‘I mean, it’s just that I guess, it’d be best if we all got along, what with us travelling together and all you know.’ He muttered endlessly, visibly flustered.

Geralt lowered his drink on the table with a shaky hand, heart racing. Unbidden, a small but radiant smile bloomed on his face and, trying not to overthink it, he took Jaskier’s hand in his. Stunned into silence, Jaskier focused back on him.

‘Yeah’ Geralt said, squeezing his hand. ‘I know.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we know he's at elast partly disney princess :D  
> Just the last chapter left to write now. I'll be busy till wednesday next week so I won't be posting for a week. Till then, enjoy !


	4. La mauvaise réputation

1256

Pulling the net back to him once more, Geralt mechanically checked its content before moving a few steps along the bank and throwing it back into the lake. Pull, check, move, throw. Exhaustion pulled at Geralt's mind, unfocused his thoughts and slowed his movements. Sleeping had been a foreign concept these past weeks and it showed. Geralt was used to sleepless nights. Hunts, nightmares or stress had always regularly limited his rest, he’d learned to fonction this way. 

But this, this was new. A plain inability to fall asleep plagued him and he had to make it stop. He could not hunt in this state, this was a sure way to get himself killed and a witcher that couldn’t hunt was a useless witcher. Meditation helped but could not replace the hours lost to insomnia and Geralt had had enough of this.

That’s why, when he heard a rumor about a djinn hidden in the lake, he jumped on the occasion to solve his problem. He was once again pulling the net back when he heard a familiar voice. Jaskier came to stand next to him, beaming. 

‘Geralt ! Hello. What’s it been, months ? Years ? What's time anyway.’ 

Geralt knew full well it had only been a few weeks since they’d parted but to him, it had indeed felt like years. When Jaskier had first received the letter, his face had gone through a complexe succession of emotions. Geralt had let it be, used to such antics, and waited for the bard to recover.

‘Would you look at that, I’ve been invited to sing at court ! And it’s specified that I can bring a friend. I guess that settles it for our travel plans.’

‘Hmm. Where to ?’ Geralt asked, eyeing the bard suspiciously. 

‘It’s for a birthday celebration, I’ll have to brush up on my repertoire on the way, I’m a bit rusty.’ He dodged the question and tried to put the invitation back in its envelope but Geralt was faster and grabbed it before he could. ‘No don’t !’

The three crowned lions seal at the top of the letter had stopped Geralt short. He could hear Jaskier sight as he had read the letter. Jaskier had been formally invited to perform at the sixth birthday feast of the cintran heir, he could come with a guest, he had been asked to please confirm his attendance as soon as possible and so on. Geralt had re read the letter once, twice, before crumbling it and throwing it as far away as possible. ‘No.’

‘Yes Geralt. I will go to this feast and you are welcome to join me. Geralt’ he pleaded, grabbing the witcher by the shoulder to face him. ‘You won’t be able to run from this forever. I’m not saying this is it but this is a great occasion to simply meet her.’

At that Geralt growled and pulled away, facing the window of their room at the tavern. He could feel Jaskier’s stare hot on his neck, as well as his disappointment. 

‘I’ll leave for Cintra tomorrow morning. Please think about it tonight and come with me.’

Geralt had not thought about it and had watched Jaskier leave the following day. Coincidentally, the insomnia had started that night. Geralt refused to see a connection there. 

Jaskier’s voice brought him back from his musings. ‘How are you doing I hear you ask ?’

‘I didn’t’ was all the greetings Geralt felt like giving. He was happy to see Jaskier, he knew that, even though the feeling was somewhat dulled by his exhaustion, but he did not want to hear what he had to say about his latest trip. So he ignored him and kept on fishing. A few words still registered, something about the countess de Stael which only served to annoy him further. 

‘What are you fishing for exactly ?’

Geralt stopped, breathed in deeply and tried to center himself. Jaskier did not deserve his ire, Geralt had to calm down. ‘I’m not fishing. I can’t sleep.’

‘Right. Well.’ Jaskier said slowly, perplexed. ‘That makes sense insomuch that it sort of doesn’t. What’s going on Geralt ? Talk to me.’ He insisted, now worried.

‘A djinn.’

Hearing that, Jaskier tensed up. Had Geralt been his usual self, he would have probably noticed it. ‘I’m sorry ?’

‘I’m looking for a djinn.’ The witcher explained.

‘Yes, no, I got that bit but I don’t see how that’s supposed to help you in any way.’

Geralt looked at Jaskier, wondering if he was being purposefully dense. ‘It’ll grant me wishes.’

‘In a world of bad ideas my friend, this one is probably the worst you’ve ever had. Geralt, come on, Geralt stop !’ Jaskier grabbed the witcher’s hand, stopping him as he was bringing the net back once again. Geralt turned and really looked at him for the first time since the bard arrived. He was frowning, eyes wide, looking concerned, bordering on frightened. ‘Geralt’ he repeated, still shaky but calmly. ‘Djinns are no joke my friend, they’re crafty and shrewd, they’ll try their hardest to turn every wish you make against you. And you know it !’ He insisted when Geralt tried to turn around and free his hands but Jaskier held on. ‘You’re the White Wolf, the greatest witcher to ever walk the Path. You know it’s a mistake.’

Geralt breathed in deep and closed his eyes. He could not think clearly right now, his mind both frantic and sluggish at the same time, only really able to focus on his fatigue. But Jaskier made sense, dammit. The bard’s hand on his grounded him, brought him back from the frenetic need to fucking sleep, no matter the cost. Sensing that he was getting through to him, Jaskier pushed his advantage.

‘I can help, I can, we’ll prepare the camp and then, I’ll cook a warm meal and I’ll play a little something to relax you’ Jaskier went on, gently pulling Geralt away from the lake.

Just as the witcher was about to give in, he dropped his gaze to the net and saw it. A small urn, coated in mud, was in it. The frenzy came back suddenly, stronger than before, erasing everything else. He snatched his hands back and dropped to his knees, opening the net and grabbing for it, cradling it against his chest. Finally. Finally he was going to rest. 

Distracted, he didn’t see Jaskier lunged for the jar and couldn’t stop him from grasping the other handle and tugging. ‘Stop that’

‘My darling witcher, be reasonable’ The bard grunted, vainly pulling with all strength. ‘This. Is. Dangerous. For the both of us, please don’t. Let go of the djinny djinn djinn now. ’

Bearing his teeth and growling, Geralt pulled back. His second hand came to the urn’s top to get a better grip and, as he yanked again, he felt the plug come off. They both stopped and looked at the jar, waiting for something to happen.

‘Fuck’ was all Jaskier got to say before a strong wind surrounded them and sent them flying away from the bank. Confused by the situation - djinn were supposed to obey those freeing them, should not be able to attack them - Geralt still managed to cast Aard at the smoky shape above Jaskier, chasing it away. He tracked it and saw it fly away, far above the woods. This was beyond strange. The spell used to trap him in the first hand must have been faulty to begin with. 

‘G’ralt’

Alarmed, Geralt looked at Jaskier next to him. Blood leaked from the bard lips, slowly at first then flowing steadily as he started coughing uncontrollably. A cold like Geralt had never known wrapped tightly around his heart, stopping it for a second, suspending time. Jaskier’s pale, pale face was now splattered with red freckles, crimson blood dripping from his chin. His blue eyes, unfocused, spoke of the sudden pain he was in. He let out a strangled moan that broke Geralt’s transe. 

The following hours were a messy chase after a useless healer who could only redirect them to a mage. Geralt couldn’t stop himself from touching Jaskier, his back, his shoulders, his neck, anything to confirm the bard was still here, still breathing. Geralt wouldn’t remember these hours well later, his tired brain unable to fully comprehend what was happening beyond the fact that he needed to fix it. 

When he finally laid Jaskier down on the witch's bed, he still remained seated next to him, holding his hand. 

‘So, not just a friend.’

The witch exuded a chaotic energy so strong Geralt felt heady just being in the same room - or it could be the stress and tiredness who knew. She was as beautiful as she was powerful and she knew how to put both to her advantage. Her violet eyes studied them, a calculating look that put Geralt on edge. 

‘Can you help him or not ?’ He pushed through gritted teeth. 

‘Of course I can.’ She waved his concern away, strolling towards the bed, unhurried. ‘The healing spell is working but he needs to rest now. You realise, I hope, that this won’t be for free.’

The words left him before he even thought about it. ‘Whatever you want.’

‘Well then witcher.’ She’d come much closer than he had expected. He raised his head to look at her, standing right next to him smirking. ‘Thanks for offering.’ She leaned and planted a kiss on his lip. He was so surprised that it was already too late for him to fight off her spell when he noticed it. Then it was nothing but black.

* * *

He came to in a dungeon, not knowing how he got there or what crime he was accused of. Typical. But he did not know how many hours he’d lost either and he tensed up at the thought of Jaskier. Was he still ok, was he healing right, had the witch kept her half of the bargain. Refusing to let his thoughts spiral in panic, putting his meditation exercise to good use, Geralt managed to get out of prison and made his way back to the mayor's mansion as fast as he could on still wobbly legs. He couldn’t see anyone outside so he walked in and up the stairs when he was stopped dead by Yennefer’s screaming voice.

‘You’re lying !’

‘I’m not !’ Overwhelming relief flooded Geralt, robbing him of what little adrenaline he was currently functioning on, forcing him to lean against the wall for support. Jaskier was alive. Jaskier was alive and he could talk again, he did not suffer from the djinn’s attack anymore. ‘I swear I’m not, it doesn’t work that way.’

‘I’ve read all there is to know about your kind. This is within your power. You do not respond to the regular law of magic, you can do it.' The last syllables were punctuated with Jaskier squeals.

'Whatever you read, it was wrong. I can help it along, true, but I just can't cure infertility !'

Geralt's sluggish brain tried to make sense of the conversation but he just couldn't seem to keep up right now, still weighted by his lack of sleep. He filled the information for later, trying to hear the now hushed conversation but unable to make out more than a few words here and there. He could nonetheless smell Jaskier fear thick in the air, cloying his throat, and it was enough to spurt him towards the room again. When he pushed the door, two pairs of eyes turned to him, one happier than the other at his arrival.

'Geralt !'

'You're back early witcher.' Yennefer was clutching at Jaskier’s manhood rather threateningly.

'Let go of him.' Geralt said, hands reaching for his sword. 

The witch took a step back, rolling her eyes. 'Keep your panties on, I did not save him just to hurt him afterwards, that would be rather counterproductive. And you' she pointed at Jaskier, who raised his hands in protection 'we are not finished. I will do some more research but, if you lied, be sure that I will find you.'

'As nice as this encounter was, I would rather you didn't.Thanks’ Jaskier powerwalked to Geralt and hid behind him, never letting Yennefer out of his sight. ‘We’ll be on our way now, no need to show us out, farewell !’

As he let Jaskier pull him out of the room, Geralt nodded and sent a thankful glance to Yennefer. Her smug smile was all he could see before he was pushed out of the room, down the stairs and out.

‘Let’s get as far away from the very sexy but insane witch as we possibly can, shall we ?’

‘She saved your life Jaskier. Show some gratitude.’

‘I was showing plenty of gratitude until she tried to rip my dick off’ Jaskier responded caustically. 

Remembering what he overheard when he first got there, Geralt asked ‘What did she want from you ?’

‘Oh I don’t know’, the bard replied, going to Roach, focused on leaving the place. ‘Something about helping her to have a babe or whatnot. As if I could just materialise one out of thin air’ he mumbled, stroking the horse neck and leading her away from the stable. 

Geralt took a minute to really look at his friend. His shirt and chin were still covered in dried blood but his face had recovered its usual healthy glow. Still, Geralt prefered not to take any risks. He climbed into Roach’s saddle and extended his hand. 

‘Let’s go’

Jaskier stared at his hand, at his face then back at his hand, obviously surprised and being dramatic about it. 

'Geralt are you getting all emotional on me ? Would risking my life more often get me to ride Roach every other day ?’

Geralt huffed and started Roach on the path. Jaskier snatched his hand before he could get away, stopping him. Geralt pulled him up behind him on Roach. The tavern was not too far away but they were both tired. Jaskier’s arms came around Geralt, his hands gently pressed on the witcher’s torso before the bard let his head fall between his shoulder blades. 

‘Thank the gods you’re okay.’

Geralt couldn’t speak around the lump that formed in his throat so he simply lifted a hand to Jaskier, right above his heart, squeezed and left it there, their fingers intertwined. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than a 100 kudos (!!!!!) thank you all ! I did not think this small fic would get any attention at all, thank you for your support <3  
> Seems like I lied, I've actually finished writting it all :D  
> So here is another chapter, you'll get the next on tuesday !  
> Let me know what you thought of this one in the comments :)


	5. Les amoureux des bancs publics

1257

By now Geralt was at a dead end. Seventeen years they’d known each other, seventeen fucking years he’d been trying, more or less actively, to find out what Jaskier was. He knew some things of course, but nothing that helped him get a definite answer. Geralt was the butt of the joke among the other witchers by now, spending part of winter buried in books, researching some explanations in vain. Yennefer had tracked them down a few times since they first met her, stealing Jaskier away for an afternoon here and there and each time, Geralt tried to listen in on their conversation - it wasn’t eavesdropping, if they didn’t want him to hear they should go farther away. Unfortunatly, he gained no insight from them.

So here they were, seventeen years in, still travelling together on and off - more on than off in the last years - with many things left unsaid in the way. What was at first a fun inside joke was starting to get frustrating for some reason and Geralt was set on asking Jaskier for the truth. Displaying an unexpected level of social skills, for him anyway, the witcher was waiting for the right moment.

They were going to a small village deep in Novigrad’s countryside where they would spend the night, on their way to a supposedly haunted mansion. As they neared it, Geralt was surprised by the animation he could already hear. Songs and laughter as well as smells of a small banquet were drifting all the way to them, still a league away. 

As they got closer, even Jaskier could perceive the commotion. ‘Ooh great, a party ! Finally some civilization. We’ll eat our fill, I’ll sing for our room and we’ll be able to sleep on something other than the hard dirt.’ 

And indeed, there was a big celebration going on. Garlands of twigs and flowers were suspended at every window, green branches had been braided and arched above the pathways to hand colorful strips of linens. And on every head, from the smallest child to the eldest woman, flower crowns. A young girl came up to them as they entered the town.

‘Welcome ! It is our tradition to invite every traveler to dine with us on this day. Will you join us tonight ?’ She looked to be around six, jumping up and down from the excitement of having been given the task to invite them.

Jaskier kneeled in front of her, delighted ‘What a marvelous tradition ! We’ll be honored to come my lady’ 

She giggled and went back running to her mother, who had been watching the exchange with a smile. 

Geralt and Jaskier made their way to the tavern, where the bard booked a room for the night while Geralt put Roach in the stables and took care of her. Jaskier came to meet him once done.

‘The innkeeper has kindly told me where the celebration will be. They’ve cleared a field just east of here and installed a bonfire they’ll light soon, we shouldn’t have a problem finding it. What do you think they’re celebrating ? A wedding ?’

‘Probably more a spring celebration, given the decoration and date.’ Geralt was still combing through Roach’s mane but he heard Jaskier sudden gasp. 

‘Do you think so ?’ A strange mix of emotion, of which Geralt only recognised longing and excitement, loaded Jaskier’s voice. 

‘Yeah, it used to be common practice in Velen and even the Skelliges Islands but it died out a bit. It’s been some time since I’d seen one.’ 

A soft uncharacteristic ‘Oh’ left Jaskier. Geralt put the brush away, gave a last pat to Roach’s soft muzzle and left the enclosure, closing it behind him. Jaskier looked lost in his thoughts so Geralt bumped their shoulders delicately.

‘Let’s go or there won’t be anything left to eat’

Smiling back at him, Jaskier nodded and they left for the field. The innkeeper had been right and they found it a couple minutes later. The high grass had been flattened to the ground and tables installed around a bonfire. At the edge of the field stood a huge cherry tree in full bloom, under which had been built a small diais covered in lit candles. Villagers were already gathered around the fire, drinking and eating some of the meats that were roasting over pits. For such a small village, there were a lot of people but Geralt spotted some other travellers that had supposedly been invited like them, which would explain it.

A villager waved them as they approached, thrusted plates full of food and tankards of ale in their hands before seating them at a table. Dumbfounded by such an authoritarian welcome, they shared a look. Jaskier snickered and Geralt couldn’t help the small smile that came to him. 

It was not long before someone spotted the lutecase at Jaskier’s feet - who had of course planned on it, not like he would ever miss a chance to play - and urged him to join the band already playing. He did, singing his heart out all his most famous songs. Many knew the lyrics, even here so far from pretty much everything, and joined in for the chorus.

The evening went on and Jaskier left the stage to other singers. They were just starting on a new tankard each, already a bit tipsy from the joyous mood, when the music stopped and all conversation hushed. Curious, Geralt looked around to see the crowd parting to give way to a teenage boy. Clothed in a shirt finely embroidered with tiny vines he walked with a determined stride up to the dais. There, he turned to face the crowd and kneeled. An old woman joined him then and started speaking.

‘Rejoice, good people of Novigrad. Rejoice for Jarilo has returned !’

‘Jarilo !’ the villagers shouted back as one. 

‘Jarilo is among us tonight. Returned from the underworld, he has brought back spring and fertility to our land once more. Thanks to his benevolence, we have had a lavish spring, full of successful hunts and crops. Four healthy babes were born’ She smiled and parents raised said babies above their heads, showing them off to everyone. ‘Yes, as always Jarilo has been most generous. It is now time for us to thank him for his gifts.’ At that she lifted a crown made of birch branches. ‘Welcome ! Welcome home Jarilo and receive our thanks.’ The old woman lowered the wreath onto the teen’s head.

Thus crowned he stood up and beamed. ‘I’m home’ 

Everyone exploded in applause and that was that. The party came back full force, each villagers trying to be the first to give the teen a bit of food, a flower or whatever small trinket they’d prepared as a gift. 

‘Guess I was right.’ Geralt whispered to Jaskier.

Hearing no answer, he looked at the bard. He was alarmed to see him biting his fist, tears running down his face.

‘Jas what’s wrong. Jaskier, talk to me.’ Geralt started searching for injuries. He could not smell any blood but he’d been distracted, maybe something happened, maybe someone had hurt his friend.

‘I, I’m ok’ he hiccuped clumsily. 

Geralt put an arm over Jaskier’s shoulders and led him out of the field, to a bench near the tavern where they sat. Since everyone was at the party, they were alone. 

Geralt tried to remember what could have happened to upset Jaskier like that. Not that the bard was not an emotional creature, it was not the first time Geralt has seen him cry but still. The food had been good, the people welcoming and happy to hear his songs. Jaskier had seemed alright up until the ceremony had started and, sure, it had been pretty but nothing so moving that would explain this level of upset. They’d barely done anything, the old woman had talked about their thankfulness for the revived nature, good hunting and the fertility of their women, all gifts of Jarilo but nothing else, right ?

That’s when it clicked. 

‘You’re Jarilo’

Jaskier sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. ‘Took you long enough.’

‘You’re spring personified’ Geralt continued, speaking more to himself than to Jaskier, finally, finally making sense of every little thing he’d notice during their long friendship. 

‘I guess’ Jaskier was calmer now. ‘It’s the first time I actually hear this name but, I don’t know, it rings a bell.’

‘What do you mean the first time ?’

‘Well it’s not like this came with instructions did it ?’ Jaskier laughed a little self-deprecatingly. 

Geralt was lost. ‘You’re a deity, a spirit of high power. How can you not know this?’ 

‘I was not born like this Geralt.’ Seing Geralt’s surprise, he continued. ‘Oh no darling witcher, I was born as human as they come. I lived a normal, non magical life until I turned twenty-four.’

When Jaskier did not offer anymore information, Geralt pressed their knees together for support and asked ‘What happened then ?’

‘I died. Or rather I was murdered I supposed.’ He answered flippantly. ‘My father you see, he never really liked me much. I was too loud, too insubordinate for a viscount. So when I openly refused the arranged marriage he had planned, that was it. He had me dragged to the woods and he drowned me in the brook.’ Geralt’s fist clenched painfully hearing this. He couldn’t help but picture the scene, Jaskier fighting helplessy against his own father, trying to get above the water and failing. Heedless of Geralt’s internal fight, Jaskier continued. 'Eventually I died. I did not expect anything to happen after that obviously, so I was rather surprised admittedly, to wake up, three years later according to my research, in a clearing somewhere in Toussaint, not knowing how I got there or what had happened.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Fuck indeed. Here I was, alive and really, and I mean really, confused. It was all trial and errors from there’ he shrugged. ‘You probably know as much as I do about what I can do.’He started counting on his fingers. ‘I don’t age. I am attuned to the seasons, at my strongest in spring and weakest in winter. I can grow pretty much anything and animals, though they don’t obey me, are, I don’t know, nicer to me ? Ah and I can bless people to help pregnancies along too, something Yennefer was very interested in.’ He rolled his eyes.

A deity. A fucking springtime spirit. No wonder he hadn’t found out, they were nothing more than mere legends acoording to every books in the keep. 

‘Geralt ? Geralt, say something you’re making me nervous, I know you’ve known for some time now and I was hoping you’d be okay with it all and…’

‘It’s okay Jas.’

‘Oh. Oh good then’ All tension left Jaskier. He dropped his head on Geralt’s shoulder. ‘I knew that I was Spring but today I’ve learned yet another name for myself. I’m Jarilo too.’

‘Hmm. I like Jaskier better.’ Geralt buried his nose in the bard hair, breathing in the smell of wisteria and buttercups.

‘Jaskier it is then.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a stressful weekend so I'm posting this here, thanks for any good vibes you could send my way :D  
> Here is the big reveal, hope I did not telegraph it too hard and you're not disapointed <3


	6. Le Temps des cerises

1259

Now that Geralt knew, things made much more sense. In the couple years since that spring festival, Geralt had witnessed Jaskier’s radiance in spring, followed by a slow decline up until winter, though the witcher had never seen Jaskier at his lowest since they’d still parted during the coldest months. He’d often asked Jaskier for plants and been amazed to see the bard simply kneel and the flower grow on the ground between his reaching hands. Geralt had always known Jaskier was not human, and though he thought being a deity was a bit much, it suited the bard well.

All that being said, nothing much changed between them. Still Jaskier talked too much, Geralt slew monsters and onwards they journeyed together. It was the middle of autumn, Jaskier’s hair was a darker brown than just a few weeks ago, his skin paler, and they would soon part ways. None of them had mentioned it yet but they were slowly travelling north, getting closer to the path to Kaer Morhen. This was probably the last contract they’d take on before they went to Yspaden and parted. 

A small nest of arachas had been spotted by the villagers in the woods not too far from the market. A few sheep had been snatched and a kid had disappeared just the day before. They were ready to storm the nest themselves when the witcher had arrived in town. Jaskier had convinced them to let Geralt try first, explaining that as an expert he’d have more chance to save the boy, that going by themselves meant risking the kid’s life as well as theirs. They’d relent but only for a time, saying that had the witcher not saved the boy by first light the following day, they would go. 

Roach had been left at the tavern with most of their stuff. Geralt had stopped telling Jaskier not too come on hunts at least a decade ago and so they were now trekking, Geralt following the trail left by many spidery legs, Jaskier running a live commentary of the hunt, already trying out some verses for his next song. 

‘How many do you think there are ? I’ll have to adapt for the rhyme.’

Geralt sniffed the air. ‘Five or six I think.’

‘Did you just sniff them out ?’

‘Hm.’ The trail led them to a cave entrance, it’s walls covered with white slimy webs and an ominous smell of rotting flesh wafting from its depth.

‘Wait here.’

Geralt unsheathed his silver sword, coated it swiftly in arachnid oil and entered the cave, leaving a still humming Jaskier outside. The plan here was to find the boy, get him out and come back later to eradicate the arachas. This seemed simple enough. 

So of course, it went to shit in barely 20 seconds. 

He found the boy wrapped in a silk cocoon stuck to a wall near the entrance. Geralt did quick work of cutting it up and caught him before he fell to the floor. The boy’s heart was a bit slow but strong, probably due to the spider’s venom. He needed to get him out to a healer but he should be ok. 

Just as Geralt turned to get out, he heard a shift above him. He had a second to throw a quick quen and brace for impact, shielding the boy with his body. An arachas dropped on him from the ceiling, shattering his sign and knocking him to the ground, sending his charge and his sword flying. Geralt rolled as best he could but only just managed to get on one knee before he was knocked sideways and pinned to the ground. The witcher raised his hands just in time to grab the mandibles aiming at his throat. He twisted sharply to the left, breaking the creature’s neck and pushing it off him. He seated up sign at the ready, only to find himself surrounded by no less than two dozen arachas.

‘Fuck’ 

He cast igni at the nearest ones, sending them running but others were already inching closer. This was gonna be ugly, Geralt knew, for the boy certainly but maybe also for him. He could now see how deep the grotto went, hiding the scent of the huge nest that was no doubt somewhere in there. 

As one, the arachas jumped him. He managed to behead one, stab another before one bit his shoulder, causing him to cry out.

‘Geralt ?!’ Of course, the stupidly brave bard would come looking for him.

‘Jaskier, run !’

The arachas did not miss this opportunity and attacked again, targeting them both. Geralt fought all the harder for it, trying to get to Jaskier, to protect him, to save them both him and the boy but he just couldn’t get through the wall of legs and flesh and stings that were coming at him. He slashed again and again, the smell of burning flesh rising each time he cast igni, but still he could not get closer to Jaskier, slowed down but yet another bite on his shin. 

He screamed, frustrated, in pain and scared. The arachas pushed him to the ground and lunged at him.

‘No !’

Jaskier’s voice covered the ambient screeches, reverberating in the cavern, growing stronger as it moved deeper into the tunnels. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment before the ground started shaking.

Suddenly, cracks riddled the ground and from their depth shot gnarled roots, twisting rapidly. One swatted away the arachas near Geralt ending its deadly curve piercing through another and bashing it on the wall. Chaos erupted, roots wiping the air, striking arachas on the way. The beasts screamed, dispersing, trying to get back to the safety of the tunnels, only to be stopped but the plants.

It was over in a matter of seconds. The quiet felt foreign after the previous turmoil and it took a moment for Geralt to get his bearings. He saw the boy, still unconscious, lying next to him. Slowly, minding his wounded shin, Geralt stood up.

He’d been wrong. All the years together, so very, very wrong. Looking around him at the mutilated corpses of arachas, limbs torn, roots impaling their bleeding carcasses to the cave’s walls, Geralt could only gape. more than twenty arachas, dead, almost all killed by Jaskierr's power, and in just an instant.

A dull thump brought him back. Sign at the ready, expecting to see a final opponent, he only saw Jaskier’ form, collapsed near the cave entrance.

‘Jaskier !’

Geralt limped to him and went to his knees next to the bard. He grabbed his shoulders and lifted him, cradling his head against his shoulder. Geralt frantically looked for a wound, a bump, anything that would explain Jaskier’s weakness.

‘I’m fine, darling.’ Lifting a trembling hand, Jaskier patted Geralt’s arm and said, voice faint. ‘I’ve just stretched myself a bit.’

He looked pale as death and, as Geralt checked, his cheek was icy. It reminded Geralt of that time, years ago when they met late in the year. ‘It’s autumn.’ the witcher hissed.

‘Yes, that did make things harder than they ought to be.’ Jaskier seemed to be fighting to stay awake, exhausted by his powerful attack. ‘I’m not at my best’ he whispered, slipping into unconsciousness. 

Geralt listened for any sign of distress but the bard’ heart and breathing were strong and steady so he allowed himself to relax and sight. Looking at him now, Geralt had a hard time believing the bard was responsible for the massacre around them. But it was undeniable. Despite what Geralt had assumed, Jaskier was far from harmless. He was dangerous, strong in a way Geralt could not ever hope to be. He could defend himself and those around him. 

The thought, strangely, loosened a knot Geralt had not realised existed around his heart. Jaskier would be okay. Jaskier would not leave. And this, more than finally truly understanding all that Jaskier was, was the most important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are !   
> I had fun writing this and got inspired into writting some more about spring Jaskier, a little somtehing about Geralt and Jaskier first winter together. What do you think ?  
> Anyhow, thanks for getting this far and for all the kuddos and comments, that made my week :D
> 
> See you soon maybe <3


End file.
